Sensitized
by Myurra-K
Summary: It started when he actually felt the needle pierce his skin; it was the day he began to fall in two different directions at once. And now here he is, with a pair of broken wings, trying to decide if he should let them heal or rip them off. SLASH Sassy


**Sensitized  
MyurraK**

**_In the life of the wrong a love lingered on,_**  
**_If our love is so wrong, what should we do alone_****

* * *

**

_~`;'~_ **SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"Uriel," Castiel murmured, eyes scanning the packets of instant noodles, hand running over the labels as his eyes scanned them. The darker-skinned angel peered over the opposite side of the shelves, meeting Castiel's quick glance. "Have you ever considered what it's like?"

"What what's like, exactly." he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "And Castiel," the shorter angel glanced up, curious blue eyes widening, "You're not a servant. No noodles."

"But they ask-"

"No. Noodles."

Castiel sighed, giving a shifty glance at the undisturbed row of packets before moving on, eyes scanning the different colours of the food and labels. Uriel remained in step with him, a hand dragging over packets of chips, making light crackling sounds.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to…" he paused, rounding the end of the shelves and staring down at his shoes. Uriel sighed, shifting his weight and staring directly at the top of Castiel's head. "…to _feel_."

"Castiel, to feel something is the beginning of the end for one of us." he replied. Castiel looked up, brow creased. Uriel set a hand on the shorter angel's shoulder, but he did not even feel the so-called soothing touch. "You don't want to feel. When you start to feel, it means you've started to fall."

Castiel blinked steadily before replying quietly. "What if…I want to feel? What if I want to know what touch is like, if I want to know what emotions feel like?" he clenched his hands into fists. "I _do_ want to know what touch feels like." Uriel tilted his head to the side, before glancing behind him. Castiel also turned his eyes up, staring at the door as the bell chimed.

A young male staggered in, handgun cocked toward the man behind the register. He had a hood pulled over his head, an unshaven dirty face and ripped jeans. His fingers trembled on the trigger. Castiel met Uriel's eyes.

The young man knocked the barrel of the gun across the cashier's face, leaving a shallow gash and causing the man to stumble back against the shelves of cigarettes. "The money, now!"

Moments later and the young man was gone, the crinkled money shoved in his pockets and a single bullet missing from his gun. Castiel approached the counter, peering over the edge. The man lay on the ground, gurgling as blood bubbled up his throat, pooling under him from where the bullet had punctured his chest. The light in the man's eyes died as his gaze was locked with Castiel's, a silent garbled _'help'_ bleeding over his lips.

Uriel's hand flittered over his shoulder. "You don't want to feel. Pain is a sensation that is inevitable to those who feel." Castiel did not answer the other angel, his reply stuck in his throat as he watched the man's fingers twitch one last time as he reached for a photo of his family stuck underneath the counter.

* * *

_~`;'~_** SENSITIZED**_ ~`;'~_

It was random and it only lasted a second, but Castiel was for that moment inclined to agree with Uriel. He would come at the last minute when the Winchesters had been fighting a Punisher Demon, and he'd acquired a deep gash in his arm that, because of his lack of energy, was not healing by itself.

Dean had gone out to get some food, and Sam sat beside him with a needle in his grasp, lifting the sleeve of Castiel's shirt over his elbow and pressing the needle to his skin. When it pierced, Castiel restrained a hiss at the sudden sting that bit against his flesh and sent an unpleasant jolt through his unused nerves. He turned serious eyes to the younger Winchester.

"Ouch." he said deeply and tonelessly, Sam's surprised gaze flittering to him. He frowned, pausing in his movements to stare right into the angel's eyes. Castiel felt something in his chest leap toward his throat at the intensity in that stare, and for a moment, he considered if you truly could read everything about a man through his eyes.

"You…you felt that?" Sam asked, his brows turned up toward the centre, brow creased and lips parting as he waited for an answer. Castiel nodded, glaring down at the gash in his arm to avoid the young man's gaze. Sam cleared his throat and tugged the threat through his skin. "Oh, well…sorry. I'll try to make this quick so it doesn't hurt." his voice veered off into a quiet and internally musing tone, one Castiel was used to after all this time.

Sam's hands were shaking when he brought the needle to re-pierce his skin. "I no longer feel it." Castiel said quietly in consolation, but his sight found itself caught by the intrigue of Sam's hands. The young man pressed his forefinger to the thread where it passed through his skin gently with each stitch, the blood glistening off his nails and the silver needle.

He had seen those hands when they were angry. They were firm and taut, tendons and veins running visibly through the raised flesh, nails and knuckles white. He had seen them covered in the blood of his enemies, the blood of his brother and the blood of helpless victims. He had seen them when they were violent. They seemed so at home and comfortable curled around the handle of a blade, or supporting the barrel of a gun, fitting perfectly and sitting entirely in place. He had seen them squeeze around the neck of a demon, he had seen them claw at the flesh of a vampire.

Now, there was no hardness to the lines of this man's hands. His fingers didn't appear rough or calloused, they were soft and beckoning, like a child's hands. Smooth and curved, gentle and caring. They trembled every now and then, or the needle slipped and jabbed his finger, but they were soothing against Castiel's swollen and wounded flesh in a way only his host would probably understand.

Castiel didn't even notice the other stitches being devised until Sam finished the final one with a loopy double knot and snipped the thread carefully close to his skin. He dabbed an alcohol-soaked towel to the wound, pressing it firmly there for a moment to soak up any extra blood. Sam gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder to show he was finished the stitching, moving into the bathroom to wash his hands.

Castiel could see directly into the bathroom from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as the water rolled over Sam's fingers, washing away his blood and cleaning them again. Sam caught where his gaze was through the mirror, Castiel sensing this and meeting his eyes through the reflection. Silent words passed between them and Sam turned to dry his hands on a blue towel draped over the edge of the nearby bathtub to break the contact.

"Alright, let's just patch it up and you'll be good to go."

"I don't want to go."

"Just an expression." Sam said on reflex, avoiding his eyes and sidling back where he'd been seated before, this time with tanned hands clean of any trace of blood. He searched through the first aid kit before settling on a simple adhesive medical fabric.

Cutting a square with the same threading scissors he'd used earlier, he spoke again. "So do you think this will heal quickly?" he asked, peeling the white backing off the fabric and holding it out. Once again, Castiel found his eyes trained on Sam's hands.

"More than likely, the stitches will fall out by tomorrow." he admitted, but his reply must have been slow because Sam glanced up while smoothing the fabric over his skin, green eyes narrowing at his face before he realised where the angel was staring.

Whipping his hands back as if he'd been lashed, he quickly gathered the kit back together and stepped away. Castiel frowned as he read Sam's mind. _What was I thinking; of course, he doesn't want to be touched by me. I should have just waited for Dean to do it; the thought of me touching him probably sickens him._

"You should not be so hard on yourself, Samuel, especially when you are delusional about your own reasoning." Sam swallowed visibly, head snapping back toward him. His shoulders sagged slightly in relief, but he didn't appear convinced.

"Y-you read my mind again?" he asked. Castiel nodded. Though a part of him felt like he were invading the younger Winchester's privacy, it was a reflex to understand what was wrong in others before he attempted to help. It was the 'Softer' nature of his Angelic blood that compelled him to do so, and he felt that Sam understood that best out of the two brothers.

"I am sorry if it appeared that way, I was merely fascinated." he replied honestly. Sam frowned at him, folding his arms tightly over his chest, hands hidden behind them breaking Castiel's concentration from them. It took the man a moment to realise that the angel was referring to his thoughts rather than reading his mind.

"Fascinated about what?"

"Your hands." Sam's head ticked to the side, a small confused smile twitching across his lip. He stared at Castiel in slight bereft, as though he wished to ask but also didn't. Castiel decided to save him the internal conflict. "I've only ever seen your hands used in battle, the way you handle your blades with such control and perfection is admirable. But just now, they looked and felt so gentle, as though they had never harmed anything before." he continued, his blue eyes staring directly into Sam's unreadable ones. "For some reason, I find myself reconsidering what I _thought_ I knew about you."

Sam looked as though he wanted to say something, but curiosity got the best of him and he just waited for the angel to continue, still turning his words over in his mind. Castiel's eyes instantly flickered down to Sam's hands when he unfolded his arms, and just as he had hoped, they were still soft, fingers slightly curled toward his palms, completely relaxed.

"For hands to have experienced such violence and bloodshed, and still be capable of conducting with care and compassion, it speaks to me more than you'd understand."

No more words passed between them, Sam giving a slight resigned nod before he raised his hands, staring down into them, considering Castiel's words. The angel watched as a small smile passed over the young man's lips, warmth spilling in his chest when he realised it was because of him.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

Castiel had become fascinated with Sam's hands, intrigued by their different motions and gestures, reading them as though he were reading a person. While hunting they were fierce and dangerous, scarily attuned to keeping both his own heart as well as Dean's beating. There was a second nature to those dangerous hands; as soon as the threat was out of the way, they softened to care for his brother.

Over the week he watched Sam's hands convey many different sides to the younger Winchester he was almost certain he couldn't have missed before, but did anyway.

They had been frustrated, the ceramic of a coffee mug cracking under inhuman strain as he gripped it tightly, jaw clenching to remain silent and not draw attention to himself.

They had been angry, casting a lamp into the wall when something Dean said really ate at him inside. The blood in those fingers was boiling, the strength in those muscles unnaturally exceeding that of Dean's.

They had been in pain, pads of his fingers digging into his own flesh when a sharpness seared through his arm, nails forming into his skin small silvery moons that welled with blood shortly after. They had rubbed smoothly but deeply into his skin afterwards, warding the pain away from himself.

They had been affectionate, tenderly brushing against the moist bruised skin of his fevered brother's brow. They had guided the older man into a seated position, stroked his cheek gently and pressed a glass of water to his lower lip, pulled the covers back over him as he slept and tucked them firmly over his shoulders.

Each new gesture he witnessed, the more he considered to himself what exactly hands would feel like. He'd heard Dean's thoughts of female hands wandering over his body, but that was not exactly what he was thinking about. He wanted to know if Sam's hands were soft or hard, or if they could be both. He wanted to know if they were cold or warm, if they were naturally sticky and moist, or if they were rugged and dry. He wanted to know if the lines felt like ridges, or if the flesh gave way under his touch, if the skin was sensitive. Were the calluses and scars painful, what did his knuckles feel like when right under the surface, why couldn't his left middle finger straighten out completely and why did the top knuckle of his right pinkie veer outwards ever so slightly.

After they'd healed from their last hunt, Dean had found himself confronted with a rare surge of anger and happened to take it out on his brother, leaving the two silent at one another and Sam quietly seething while Dean was spilling over with guilt. The older man left the motel room in search of a bar and female company when Sam refused to talk to him, keeping his back turned.

Sam did not even look up when the door quietly closed, Dean's heavy footsteps trailing down the hall. Nor did he glance up when Castiel pulled out a chair at the dining table beside him, not saying anything as he read Sam's mind. Sam's hands were viciously strangling a pen, abusing the tool for all it was worth as he scratched down note after note on Yakshini Faeries.

His handwriting began in harsh edgy capitals, wavering slightly when his grip loosened, until finally he turned to flowing nearly indistinguishable text that started to make no sense as he eventually just drew lazy waving lines, attempting to distract himself from Dean and his silent but comforting companion. Castiel listened as Sam's thoughts varied like a spectrum, starting out in vibrant angry reds to sickly, obsessively self-destructive yellows and greens, until finally settling on saddened and lonely blues.

The aftermath of fights between the brothers could be broken up in levels, depending on the brother. For Sam, as soon as Dean was out of sight, would continue to stew over arguments against his brother. Then, out of nowhere, he would start to agree with him and tear himself apart in place of the absent Winchester. Slowly, the hateful thoughts would work at his mind until they saddened him, missing his brother who would eventually come back, apologise, and tell him none of it was true and he did not mean any of it.

When Dean came back to apologise, he was apologising for both of them, because everyone who knew Sam knew he almost always had a guilty conscience about something irrational, usually something that had been said to him and he'd manage to convince himself was true even when all he wanted was for someone to tell him it wasn't.

He was not sure when, but Sam's saddened thoughts faded back to his work and he started sketching down notes once more. Castiel watched as Sam's hand worked the pen precisely, no longer angry nor sad, just business. After a while, as he always did, Sam caught him staring and gently lay the pen down, though his hand didn't move from where it rested against the notebook.

"Cas, what is it?" he asked. The angel glanced up at him, raising a hand to rest it on the tabletop.

"May I?" he asked. Sam frowned slightly.

"Uh…sure?" he replied, though Castiel had a distinct feeling the human had no idea what he had been referring to. Nonetheless, he reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around Sam's wrist. The young hunter watched him curiously, turning so his knees were no longer under the table but facing Castiel, a gesture which the angel felt was done subconsciously out of respect.

He honored men for that.

He brought the hand out in front of him, cupping it palm-up between both of his own. If Dean were to walk in at that moment, it would probably appear as though he were trying to read Sam's fortune, though he knew that palm reading was rarely anything but a hoax.

Sam's breath unexpectedly hitched when he softly ran his finger across the lifeline of his palm, something stirring low in his stomach at the sound that felt something like a mix of fascination and something else. Sam's fingertips twitched out of reflex when he brought both his thumbs to the base of Sam's wrist, smoothing them upwards toward the beginning of his fingers.

"Cas?" Sam's voice sounded hoarse, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "What is it?"

"Fascinating." he said quietly in reply, his answer seemingly satisfying Sam who leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded and watching silently. After a while of running his fingers over Sam's hand, comparing his pale skin to the human's tanned tone, he turned Sam's wrist and gently laid the palm against both his own.

His fingers traced the tendons back and forth, marvelling at how they responded by making Sam's fingers twitch. At one point, though Castiel figured it was accidental, Sam's fingers curled softly, tracing a line on the palm of his hand in return, though they quickly flattened out again.

"You're hands are beautiful." Castiel said finally, looking up to meet Sam's gaze. He was surprised to see Sam's eyes were closed, but they flickered open almost two seconds later, his irises appearing darkened due to his dilated pupil. Sam gave him a small smile, and appeared to be about to say something when the door to their room opened, Dean stumbling in.

Castiel buried his vessel's distant urge to pull his hands away, feeling he was doing nothing wrong or suspicious. Dean was not intoxicated and he didn't smell as though a female had touched him, in fact he seemed to have avoided going to a bar all together.

He had not glanced in the kitchen as he called out. "Sammy, I'm home." over the years the brothers never really grew up with a true home, so it had become habit to call their hotel rooms, no matter how daunting they may be, home. "Look, I screwed up, and I know how your mind works so I shouldn't have left like that…again."

Dean turned his eyes to the kitchen, doubling back when he seen Castiel was sitting beside his brother, eyes widening more when he noticed how Sam's hand was laying lax in both of Castiel's. He wasn't sure if he should ask, but Sam smiled and spoke.

"I was praying," he said simply. Castiel simply stared at Dean, neither agreeing nor denying it; for all he knew Sam could have been telling the truth. He let Sam's hand go gently, resting it on the man's own knee before standing from where he had been seated.

"I'll leave you both to talk, there is much you both wish to say and I advise you say all you can now. It is getting painful to see you both refusing to talk about yourselves with one another." he nodded to Dean, avoiding Sam's gaze before disappearing into the darkness, only the sound of feathered wings left behind.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

It seemed his odd physical moment with Sam had done more than temporarily satisfy his own puzzling curiosity. Sam hadn't been lying when he admitted he had been praying. He had known all along that Sam had been a believer since birth, and it was partially his fault that Sam had stopped praying in the first place. However, it seems he had redeemed both himself and his father's within the man.

Sam had told him in confidence once that he had, for his entire life, prayed at least twice a day, only then to admit he'd always felt somewhat abandoned by his god in comparison to all the other churchgoers, who claimed that God talked to them. Sam told him that it wasn't until he realised why God never spoke with him that he stopped praying, though he'd never stopped believing, that he couldn't especially when there was an angel in the flesh less than six feet from him for a good part of the day.

It seemed that his grace had reached out and touched Sam during their contact, as though deeming him a loyal and vigilant believer despite having no reason to bare anything but spite for the Heavens. Now, Sam prayed every night, and was apparently satisfied with the result. Surprisingly enough, Dean said nothing about it.

"Cas, I wanted to thank you." Castiel frowned. "For…for unlocking me I guess. He finally spoke to me, Cas. He did, he talked to me. He said that you allowed him to."

"I was not aware I'd done anything." he replied. Sam's smile didn't fade.

"Well, whatever you did, it's freed me. I'm not scared anymore; I know he's with me now. I can feel him." Sam said, sitting on the couch beside the thoroughly confused angel. "I didn't even have anything I wanted to ask from him, I just spoke to him and he replied. He answered my questions, questions I've been trying to ask for so long."

"You deserve nothing less, Samuel," he said in return, reaching over and resting his hand on top of Sam's for a moment. When he went to pull away, Sam's fingers reached out and grasped his hand, commanding his attention once again.

"Cas, do you…you don't still dislike my company do you?"

"On the contrary, I enjoy it.," he answered honestly. Sam released his hand, turning his eyes to his lap as he fingered one of his belt-loops. "I do not know why you were previously unable to speak to god; you are nothing like they claim you to be."

"How so?" Sam asked, seemingly interested.

"There was a time when I would have killed you the moment it was ordered. I once stood in the room as you slept, contemplating if I should wait for orders to do so or if I should just get it over with." the words seemed to strike a terror already considered by the man, confirming something he'd thought up himself. Castiel continued, "But now, I could not even entertain the thought of harming you. Walking among my father's creations, I've come to see truths overlooked by my superiors. Humans can hurt one another, or they can save one another. They can kill one another, or they can love one another. My father created humans to be like they are, and if he can love them for their valued traits, he must love them for their flaws as well."

"So you're saying that even though I'm flawed, tainted even, I'm still human? I'm not a monster?"

"You were and never will be anything but a human." to some, that statement may have harmed their emotions, but Sam's eyes lit with such gratitude one would think he'd just saved the man's life. Castiel considered that, maybe in a way, he had.

"Thanks, Cas."

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

His obsession with Sam wasn't sated by their moment of contact over two weeks ago, not really. Castiel found himself watching the younger Winchester now more than ever. More than just the beauty of his hands intrigued him, now his attention was drawn to other little things such as the man's eyes. And slowly but surely, he pieced each of those small things together to create an image of the human he perceived Sam to be.

He was totally enthralled with Sam, and Dean had noticed.

"Dude, if you watch any longer you're gonna fritz his laptop. He'll pluck your wings for that," the man said, his green eyes glued to Castiel's face as though gauging for a reaction. His brow was slightly raised, three lines creasing his forehead. He was cleaning bullets with a gum-like polish he had created out of salt, holy water and plant residue, but he wasn't even looking at what he was doing.

Castiel cleared his throat of the gluey feeling, turning what would be perceived as an embarrassed look down toward his own hands. Dean watched him for a moment, lips pursed slightly as he considered the angel with a raking stare.

"You okay?" he asked, Castiel merely nodding at the older of the two brothers. Dean didn't miss when his eyes went to Sam, fingers pelting away at the keyboard from where he was sitting on his bed, completely oblivious to the two of them. "Cas, talk to me."

"What would I say if I were to oblige you?" he asked, turning round blue eyes to meet the inquiring green pair. Dean frowned, shrugging and shaking his head slightly.

"I dunno. All I do know is that usually you angels have the attention span of a two-year-old when it comes to things that don't involve daddy's orders. And I can tell you that I've noticed your interest has been on Sam for the last few weeks. You're head's not in the game and I deserve to know why." he said. Castiel took a deep breath, but he did not say anything in return. "What, has he said something or done something? Do you have orders concerning him? Talk to me, man!"

"Lower the volume over there!" Sam called, not even glancing up. Castiel swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing under his skin, and his eyes flashed to Sam, wavering when he realised the younger man's attention was once again consumed. Dean watched his reaction, but continued to fall short of a conclusion.

"My interests concerning Sam are entirely subjective." he replied, meeting Dean's eyes again for a few brave seconds before faltering and casting downward to the tabletop.

"So it's a personal thing?" he clarified questioningly, running his tongue over his lower lip when Castiel nodded. "You gonna tell me about it?" Castiel shrugged.

"There is nothing to tell," the angel admitted solemnly. Sam's head raised, voice perking up over their silence.

"Hey Cas, can you come and check this? I'm not sure if it's right." almost immediately, Castiel was standing and making his way over to Sam without another word or a single protest. Dean watched him go, green cat-like eyes following every movement the two made.

"I think there is." he said to himself, gaze tracing over the relaxed tilt of Castiel's shoulders and the inclining lean of his body. "There definitely is."

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"Hold still!" Dean demanded, wrestling an arm around the back of Sam's head and tilting it up again, his other hands angling the pair of tweezers down toward his brother's face. "Damnit Sam, I'll poke your eye out if you don't stop squirming, ya big girly girl!"

Sam groaned, pressing back as hard against the arm behind head as possible. "Just leave it, I'll do it myself!"

"You can't even fucking see, ya dipstick, now open your eye already!" Dean demanded. When Sam turned his face away into the crook of Dean's elbow, he tapped his fingers to the younger man's cheek. "C'mon Sammy, you know I_ have_ to do this."

"I don't trust your aim." Sam mumbled into his sleeve, and Dean couldn't help but grin even when he knew he should feel insulted. _He _didn't trust his aim _either_. He glanced over the other side of the room where Castiel was carefully picking sprinkles of glass from his own abdomen, and sighed lightly.

"Hey Cas, we need your help." he admitted finally. He felt Sam incline his head curiously toward him, one green eye open and staring owlishly at him while the other remained closed, a drop of blood rolling from between sealed eyelids. The angel was quick to forget his own glass-related issues and came over, staring curiously at Sam's childish attempt at avoiding his brother's care.

"What should I do?" he asked, his eyes flickering worriedly to the drop of blood now slowly crawling it's way down Sam's angrily flushed cheek.

"You have a steady hand; you get the glass out of Sam's eye." Dean said, letting go of Sam's head and handing the tweezers over to Castiel. The angel nodded, biting his lip for a moment before moving to kneel in front of the younger Winchester.

Dean slid behind Sam, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist and chest to help keep him either calm or still, he wasn't sure, he just hoped it helped.

"It isn't actually stuck in my eye; it's stuck in my eyelid. You'll probably have to turn it inside out." Sam admitted, tilting his head up. They both ignored Dean's mutter of _'Ugh, disgusting dude!'_, Castiel checking the tips of the tweezers in case they were sharp.

"Can you open your eye?" Castiel asked, his other hand coming to gently rest on Sam's face, fingers spread as he leaned closer and watched. Sam shook his head slightly.

"Not without it really hurting." he said quietly, gasping as he tried anyway. Castiel nodded, biting his lip again which Dean noticed. He placed the tweezers between his teeth, using both hands to gently pry Sam's eyelids apart. He spotted the end of the piece of glass, relieved to see that Sam was right and it was not stuck in his actual eye.

"Try and keep it open how it is now." he said, waiting until after a few fluttering attempts Sam managed to keep his eye completely open, turning his gaze to the ceiling so he wouldn't be daunted by seeing the tweezers approach his eye. Cas did just that, carefully easing the ends under the edge of the lid so as to not scratch Sam's eye, and gripping the glass between the two ends.

He pulled it out quickly, making Sam gasp and jolt back against Dean. He blinked rapidly, rubbing the heel of his hand to his eye to banish the sensation. Dean chuckled, letting his brother go and sliding off the bed to treat his own cuts, trailing into the bathroom to search for some more gauze wraps.

Castiel gently grabbed Sam's hand and pulled it away. "I'll have to place a patch over it. You will need to keep it closed for a few days aside from using eyedrops until the cut heals." he told the man, glancing down before he could receive a reply. After placing the square white patch over Sam's eye and helping him move the two elastic bands over his head both above and below his ears to keep it in place, he placed his hands either side of Sam's face and stared directly into Sam's one uncovered eye.

He was about to say something when he closed his mouth and changed his mind, releasing Sam's face and turning away. "You should clean the rest of those cuts out and get some rest." he said, turning and going back to the seat he'd been in before, raising his shirt again and picking the last few pieces of glass from his already healing skin.

"Thankyou." Sam murmured, single eye staring down at his hands. "I…I guess I was pretty lucky, huh. I mean, it would have been pretty ugly if my eyes were blinded by some glass, huh?" he said, a slight depreciating laugh bubbling from his lips.

Castiel turned a steeled stare in Sam's direction. "Your eyes would have been beautiful whether they were blind or not." he said, ignoring the blush and look of shock that melted into Sam's expression, choosing instead to test each of the previous cuts with a prodding finger to make sure the skin healed properly.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, his forearms and fingers properly cleaned and wrapped, staring blankly between his blushing brother and the oblivious angel. He had heard their brief but concise conversation, and after seeing the way Sam refused to meet his eyes and Castiel refused to acknowledge either of them he decided it was not really any of his business.

Even if he was _very _curious.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"Why did you say my eyes were beautiful?" Sam asked Castiel a week later when he returned from some long skyward business he hadn't disclosed to them just yet; it had been long enough for his eye-patch to be removed at least. They were at a gas station, the two of them sitting in the car while Dean went to pay for the gas and get some snacks.

His eyes met Castiel's through the reflection. "For the same reason I said your hands were beautiful. Because they are." he said simply, runnning a long lean finger along the glass as though tracing his own reflection as he stared out absently.

"My hands are scarred and ugly." Sam said dejectedly. Cas glanced away from the window.

"To me, they're beautiful," he said, hand snaking around the seat and grabbing Sam's wrist. Sam watched with curious eyes as Castiel lifted his hand from where it had been resting on the seat, running a finger along the palm to flatten his fingers out, before bringing it to rest against his own cheek.

Sam turned in his seat to watch Castiel through confused hazy green eyes, his fingers unintentionally moving softly against Castiel's cheek to caress it. His eyes traced the outline of Cas's fingers over his own, comparing the contrast between their skin tones, before his gaze finally settled on meeting the angel's.

"What do you feel, Sam?" he asked sincerely, eyes wide and searching. "I can barely even feel this touch, once I wouldn't have felt it at all. I need you to explain it to me."

Sam swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He licked his lips, watching how Castiel's parted to take a small breath. He felt his own shudder from between his teeth and he gently moved his fingers again, intentionally this time.

"It's warm, soft like skin that has hardly been touched, your stubble tickles my palm but it isn't a bad thing." he said, his voice more breathy than he remembered.

"That's what you feel?" Castiel asked, eyes flicking between both of Sam's own. Sam bit his lower lip, answering before he could help himself.

"I feel you."

Castiel's eyes were distracted by something behind him, hand slowly sliding off Sam's own. Sam heard Dean curse, removing his hand from the angel's face and turning to look out the window. Dean, with his arms cradling a couple of packets of chips and _M&Ms_, had tripped over an air-hose while someone was re-filling their tyres, consequently yanking the hose out and releasing the air.

Before the owner of the car came out of the shop, he muttered a few curse words to himself and hurried toward the car. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, turning to look at Cas, only to find the Angel leaning back in his seat, half-closed eyes staring out the car window again, looking as though he were about to fall asleep.

Sam bit his tongue gently, hoping Dean either didn't notice or didn't mention his blush or his preference for silence.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"Would you just tell me what you're thinking already?" Dean asked quietly, gaining his brother's attention. Sam had hardly spoken to him over the past few weeks, and Cas even less than usual. He was starting to feel left out of something, even if he had a distant buried clue as to what was going on.

"I'm not thinking anything." Sam replied. Dean snorted.

"You're always thinking. I just want to know what." Sam sighed.

"I'm thinking about…food." Dean quirked a brow at his peculiar brother, not believing him for a single moment.

"_Food_?" he asked incredulously.

"Food. I'm thinking about food."

"I'm thinking you're a liar." Dean returned, smirking to himself when he seen Sam flinch. "C'mon bro, its bad enough Cas does this to me. The least you could do is compensate." he didn't miss how Sam's demeanor shifted at the mention of the angel.

"I don't have to compensate."

"You compensate if I tell you to compensate."

"Do you even know what 'compensate' means, Dean?" Sam asked, teasing his brother and trying to change the subject. Dean gave him a narrow, piercing look that told him _'yes'_, he _did_ know, and there was _no_ getting out of the conversation.

"I'm not stupid, Sam, so stop making out that I am." he said finally, staring his brother down.

"Look, I never said that you're stupid-"

"But not telling me anything, and by pretending nothing's wrong, you're acting like it!" Dean hissed, noting how Sam's shoulders went rigid and how Sam's eyes stayed fixated on his hands. Dean sighed, "Sorry for yelling," he mumbled "but you've gotta understand by now that whatever's happening with the two of you is affecting me as well."

Sam looked up, Dean feeling his throat seize when he noticed the line of moisture gathered along the lower lids of his eyes. "I know." he croaked, his fingers digging into the leg of his jeans, shaking his head. "But I _don't know_ what I'm thinking anymore, Dean."

Dean nodded to himself, battling with himself over whether he should comfort his brother or not. He didn't even know what was making Sam so upset, that's what he wanted to understand, but no one was explaining anything to him.

"He's intrigued by me." Sam said suddenly, Dean frowning and giving his brother a prying stare. "And he has no idea what it does to me." he said with a humourless laugh. Dean felt something knotting in his abdomen, something like disbelief. "He's a fricken angel, Dean. It's wrong in so many more ways to feel this way."

Dean wasn't quite sure he knew what Sam meant. "Well, maybe he wants you to feel that way, whatever way that is." he offered, something glittering in Sam's eyes as he turned his eyes to his brother's. "I mean, Cas is falling, dude. He's not the same badass stoic angel we knew, there's a part of him that's become human. Maybe he doesn't understand it either."

The more he spoke, the more he started to understand himself, but he pretended he didn't. Sam nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath and lying down on the bed, turning his back to his brother and curling on his side.

"I guess, but if Cas falls…"

"He'll be condemned by heaven." Dean filled in. Sam's shoulders set and he fell silent, evening out his own breaths and feigning sleep until it came. Dean's knee bounced a few times with agitation, but eventually after staring at Sam's back for several minutes, he groaned to himself and followed his brother's example, trying to force sleep upon himself.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

Castiel knelt beside Sam's bed with orders to wake him from his brother, who had called dibs on the shower in order to use up all the hot water. He sometimes wondered how Sam did not constantly catch chills because of Dean.

After listening to Dean's singing for a few moments, the man's deep voice reverberating through the bathroom, he lifted his arm and stretched out his hand. He was about to set his hand on Sam's shoulder when he caught the movement of Sam's eyes behind his lids, lashes flickering against bronze slightly flushed cheeks, lips parted slightly in order to breathe.

He found his hand instead moved to hover before Sam's peacefully sleeping face, fingertips tenderly brushing against the man's cheek, tracing his blush. Castiel felt himself holding his breath, heard rather than felt his heart hammering away in his chest and the blood pounding in his ears. His hand was shaking as he gently set his hand against Sam's cheek, thumb stroking faintly across the skin.

"You're beautiful, Sam."

When Sam's eyes finally opened, it was slowly, the recognition in his gaze as he regarded the angel silently was enough to give him a warm surge of confidence that the touch was not unwelcome. The palm of his hand left Sam's cheek, fingers trailing down until they brushed Sam's lips, running his forefinger across the lower one.

Sam continued to watch him, lips parting again as Castiel's finger swept over them, following the outline as though he were observing a painting, blue eyes deeply fixated and taking in every possible detail of the younger Winchester's face.

Suddenly, Sam turned his completely alert eyes away from him, clearing his throat and wincing at the no doubt stale taste on his tongue. He pulled himself upright, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stretching his arms above his head.

"I should be getting up now," he said turning to the side. He almost gasped when he opened his eyes, Castiel had moved so silently he had not even noticed the angel take a seat next to him. Their proximity was almost non-existent, Castiel's leg touching Sam's and his body angled so his face was incredibly close to the human's. _Too close, _Sam thought, but Castiel wasn't listening to his thoughts, no doubt busy trying to understand his own.

Sam yelped quietly in surprise when he felt the angel's hands come up to either side of his face, the barely-there touch sending unwanted shivers down his spine as Castiel's fingers trailed down his jaw and throat, seemingly entranced by the feeling of his racing pulse under his fingers.

"You are nervous." Castiel stated quietly, "Why?"

Sam cleared his throat, reaching up to grab both of Castiel's wrists and move them away from him. Immediately he missed the touch, but he set his jaw and steeled his eyes. "You can't touch me, you don't want to touch me." he said deeply, trying to get through to the angel.

Castiel frowned. "Yes I do." Sam tried to ignore the jolt the angel's words sent through his entire body for the time being and shook his head, gripping Castiel's wrists tightly and folding them over one another on the angel's lap.

"No you don't. There are bad consequences, Cas. You don't even know what you're doing."

"I'm touching you." Cas argued. "And I'm starting to feel it, I want to feel it." Sam's heart clenched but he refused to let it show. Cas suddenly looked like a small child, but at the same time so much older than Sam was. His hands moved to catch Sam's own, glittering opal eyes locked on his own jade ones. "I want to touch you, Sam."

"I don't _want _you to touch me." Sam said slowly, his voice wavering as he tried to keep it even. "You feel _that_?" he spat.

Castiel looked as though he'd had the best thing in the world ripped from underneath him, his eyes searching each of Sam's before he yanked his hands away from the man's, leaning back. His lips parted, trembling slightly. "Sam," he said quietly, his throat tight.

Sam flinched, turning his head away. "Just go, Cas." the angel didn't move, Sam shaking his head and covering his face with his hands. "_Go_!"

This time there wasn't even a sound as Castiel disappeared, only the _shunk_ of the water pipes as the shower turned off. Sam didn't notice the tears until Dean came out, towel still wrapped around his waist, and gently pried his hands from his face.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

Castiel had never felt as though his heart was going to explode before; at first, he thought it was an illness concerning his vessel, but as time passed and his hands did not stop shaking, and his eyes did not stop leaking, he realised. This was what Uriel meant by pain.

He felt as though he were in agony. He had sat on the edge of a lake jetty somewhere vaguely familiar surrounded by indigo mountains, the toes of his shoes just skimming the surface of the otherwise still black water. He'd been there long enough for morning light to turn into evening darkness once again, the golden light of the last few minutes before sunset warming him against the icy pain he felt gripping his internal organs.

He had been there many hours, but the leaking had not stopped, nor had the shaking. Nor had the pain.

He could hear it in his head as Dean called for him, and he'd long since thrown his cell phone in the lake, feeling somewhat satisfied by the _plunk_ of the water as it slowly swallowed the infernal piece of technology. He knew he should probably answer Dean, judging by the frantic tone of thought and voice he was using, but he just did not want to move.

If anything, he wanted to curl up on the jetty and stay there forever. Maybe he would jump into the lake and keep himself from coming back up. There were so many ways a human could kill themselves, he'd watched them sin for centuries and he was sad to say that suicide was one of the most common causes of death. He had learnt from them; however, he understood that in many ways they fell far short of being appropriate.

He caught himself before his thoughts of going to sleep and never waking again got too loud; the last thing he needed was another angel coming to see what the commotion was. Of course, he was too late for that. He heard the rustle of wings, and a dark-skinned vessel was seated beside him.

"Castiel." he said in greeting, the blue-eyed angel barely sparing him a glance as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, briefly irritated that the tears as humans called them kept coming. _Uriel_, he thought, knowing the other had heard him.

Silence stretched between the two of them for a long while, the edge of the sun just touching the mountains before Uriel spoke again.

"Did you know that if you stare down into the deep water of a lake long enough, the water appears about two feet deep, even when it's really well over your head?" he said, dark eyes turning to Castiel as he spoke. The smaller angel shook his head, shoulders sagging further in defeat. He just wanted to be alone.

The warmth of the sun began to disappear behind the mountains with it, leaving him to shiver against the cold. Good, perhaps he would freeze and would not have to feel anything again. He didn't want to feel this pain, it was too much. It was as though Sam's despise for him had opened a floodgate and suddenly emotions were not some distant fantasy, and sensations were not like a dying echo against his skin.

"Life on earth is the same, Castiel." Uriel continued suddenly. You stare down at them; watch them, and all you see is the shimmering, safe surface. It appears beautiful; it appears easy enough to walk in even. Then you step off the dock and suddenly you are in over your head. You're drowning, Castiel."

"It feels like I'm dying," he said suddenly, surprising himself. "Breathing is necessary but it feels like my lungs are sealed closed. My head is swarming with the same repetitive thoughts that I don't even want to have. And my heart, it's beating so painfully slow I may as well have died. It's like I'm human already."

"No, you're not." Uriel said. "You still have your wings, but they're broken. And just like broken things, they can heal if you give them time."

Castiel sighed, bringing his feet up onto the jetty and pressing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. His eyes welled with more tears, the beautiful last moments of the sunset liquefied and blotted out. He composed himself, aware that Uriel was not planning to leave any time soon.

"Are you going to tell me that you told me so?" he asked finally, watching his friend from the corner of his eye. Uriel smirked.

"You already know I told you so." he said, "No need stating the obvious."

"Yeah. Yeah, you told me so."

"So which mud-monkey was it?" Uriel asked, curiously. "I'd like to know what you'd see in either of them that would make you defy several laws of heaven."

"They are heaven's laws, not god's." he argued. "You know the only true sin of an angel is to turn on his father." Uriel didn't argue.

"True, but sometimes I prefer heaven's laws to our father's." he said, snickering quietly. "Partly the reason why angels turn on their father in the first place, is it not?"

Castiel didn't answer him. "Why are you here?"

"Because it is our job to comfort those who need it most," he said. "I may not have ever comforted a human, but you are my brother, Castiel, and I have a duty to you." Castiel accepted the answer, finding a silent comfort in his friend's presence he had not noticed before. Eventually he sighed heavily and let his knees go, crossing his legs and tugging on the edges of his trench coat.

Perhaps Uriel was right, maybe he should let his broken wings heal and return to heaven, let someone else take his place with the Winchesters. He knew with clarity that staying among them would be like opening a wound to infection; it would just make him worse than he already was. Moreover, he had an instinctive feeling that he had hurt Sam.

"Was it what you hoped for?" Uriel asked suddenly. Castiel jumped slightly at the sound of his voice but shrugged it off.

"To start with, yes," he said "I don't know what happened. All I wanted was to touch something, to feel something. Why does my heart hurt so much?"

"You fell, Castiel." Uriel said. Castiel felt his eyes go wide.

"But you said I didn't fall!"

"No, you fell _in love_." he said, a grin showing pale teeth against dark lips. "You're in love, Castiel, that is why it hurts so much."

The words hit the broken angel hard, and suddenly the pain in his eyes seemed to return with incredible force, the shock in those shattered sky-blue eyes was enough to make Uriel wish he hadn't told his friend the truth. He swallowed his pride, set a hand on his friend's shoulder, and quietly admitted the truth.

"We've all fallen, Castiel."

"…bet it's never hurt like this." the smaller angel said bitterly. Uriel was inclined to agree, not removing his hand from Castiel's shoulder. "Is that why you hate them so much? You fell in love with one and they hurt you?"

"They always hurt us. And we always heal." he said, hand slowly sliding off Castiel's shoulder as he turned his eyes to the lake once again. "Your wings will heal, as will your heart. You will grow to despise them. It's the inevitable result for the angels sent to earth."

"I think I'd rather Perdition than believe what you just told me."

"What I just told you probably saved you from Perdition, Castiel."

"But, in the end, is one truly better than the other?" Castiel asked, turning to Uriel only to find the space beside him empty. _So much for comfort, _he thought. He stayed curled up on the edge of the dock that night, the cold night-air whipping against his skin and drying his tears as they continued to fall even in his sleep.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"Sam, it's been two days already, you gotta tell me what happened." Dean said finally, sitting on the floor beside Sam's bed. They had moved states again, Dean half-dragging his brother away in hope that the road trip would snap him out of whatever flunk he'd fallen into.

However, much to Dean's vexation and disappointment, Sam refused to talk about anything that required actual multiple syllables for answers. All he did was lie on his stomach and stare at his hands, tracing lines across them, and stay silent. Sometimes he would hear his brother sobbing gently to himself, and other times he heard him praying for forgiveness, repeating the plea like a mantra.

"Sammy, c'mon, please?" he tried, brushing his brother's hair away from his watery eyes. "I'm here for you, man, but you gotta be here for me too," he said, trying to catch Sam's gaze. "I love you, bro, and you're worrying the hell outa me."

"Dean, 'm sorry." he mumbled, closing his eyes and turning his face into his white, tear stained pillow. "It hurts. I hurt him and I hurt myself."

"Sammy, what do ya mean by that?" Sam mumbled something incoherent and clammed up again, Dean resisting the urge to groan to himself. His brother needed him, and he was determined to be the brother he'd failed at being several times over the last few years. "Please?"

"It hurts."

"Where, where does it hurt, Sammy?" the younger man peered up from the pillow, one sad bloodshot eye gleaming dull green in the dim light. Sam pulled a hand out from where he'd had it tucked underneath his own stomach, grabbing his wrist to stop his caressing of his younger brother's hair. He moved onto his side, placing Dean's hand over his chest where his heart could barely be felt pumping in his chest, slowly, painfully.

"Here." he rasped, lower lip trembling and he let go of Dean's wrist, reaching over and shoving his brother away from him. He turned onto his stomach again, burying his arms under the pillow and digging his face into it. Dean, surprised from the shove, had fell back from where he'd been sitting, resting on his elbows as he stared up at his brother.

A part of him begged to leave his brother alone, but Sammy meant so much to him, he couldn't keep doing that. Sam didn't deserve it.

"Sammy, is it Castiel?" he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it for himself. Sam barely moved, but his shoulders set rigidly and his head nodded, face rubbing against the damp pillowcase. He wanted to tell Sam it would all be all right, that Cas would come back. "Tell me about him," he said instead, as though he'd never heard of Castiel in his life. Sitting with his back to the wall between the bed and the nightstand that he'd moved away earlier, propping his knees up and resting his elbows on them, running his hands through his hair, he watched his brother.

Sam turned his head to face Dean again, his voice strained as he spoke. "At first I thought he didn't like me at all, it started when he got that gash after helping us with the Punisher Demon. He felt it when I went to stitch him up, and I couldn't help but feel nervous. I didn't want to hurt an angel," he said, the last statement coming out as more of a sardonic laugh than anything.

"What did he do?"

"He started watching my hands, at first it thought it was because he didn't want me to touch him, but then he said that though my hands could cause bloodshed they could also soften with care and compassion. He said it spoke a lot about the man the hands belonged to, and that he was reconsidering what he thought he knew about me."

"It was after that he started watching you, yeah?" Dean asked, trying to make sure Sam kept talking. Sam nodded, hand fisting the edge of the pillow.

"Yeah. At first, it was just my hands he was watching, but then he started just watching _me_. And I liked it, I liked the attention. And that time you walked in after our fight and I told you I'd been praying, I wasn't lying. I touched it, Dean. Cas's grace. It was everywhere, and it was so warm, it covered me, and I could feel everything Cas was feeling as though they were my own emotions. I doubt he knew what they were, though," he said with another humourless laugh.

"So you actually touched it?" Dean asked, a slight feeling of awe pressing at his mind. He shut it off, letting Sam continue.

"Angel grace is pure life in its most beautiful form. It felt like I was carrying a bit with me everywhere after that. I felt warmer, my thoughts were less muddled and I was finally able to concentrate, finally able to _sleep_. And whenever Cas was close, whenever he was touching me, I felt it all over again. Thing is, I'm not sure when it stopped being Cas's grace and started being _me_."

Dean felt his heart beating loudly and steadily in his chest, and he stared down at the shirt over his chest, watching how it moved with each heavy _ba-thump_ that echoed in his ribcage. Finally, after a long silence, he thought of something to say. "What do you think Cas feels for you?"

Sam laughed bitterly. "That's just the thing. He doesn't even know he feels anything; he just knows he wants to." Dean heard something in Sam's tone that threatened his brother was going to close himself off again.

"Maybe he does feel, he just doesn't understand what it is he's feeling." Sam shook his head.

"No, he told me he wants to feel it, but he can't. And I don't want him to." Dean frowned, his head whipping toward Sam fast enough he took a moment to check for whiplash.

"Whadda ya mean by that?" he growled, "What do you think you don't deserve him because he's an angel? Is that it?" he demanded. "You're not a monster, Sam!"

"I know that!" Sam said quietly.

"Do you?" Dean shot lowly, Sam remaining quiet and hidden for a few moments. Finally, he moved his head, dim wounded eyes blinking down at him.

"Yes." he said. "And I also know that because he's an angel, if he feels something for me like he thinks he does, than he's going to fall. I've already sent you to hell before, I won't send anyone else." Dean sighed, setting his forehead against his knees.

"This right here is just your problem, Sammy. You don't let others make their own choices. You have to stop them from making one just in case. You're that willing to hurt yourself for other people so they're happy, don't you think that they feel the same way toward you?"

"Cas _can't_ feel that way toward me."

"But you want him to anyway."

Sam fell silent, rolling onto his back and holding both hands out in front of his line of sight. He slowly clenched his hands, steadily digging his nails in harder until his palms bled.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

Castiel watched as a young couple scooped up their toddler child, the father twirling in circles with his hands securely under the little girl's arms. The mother covered her mouth with her hand to hide her grin. Cas covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from feeling sick.

Everywhere he looked, humans were in love. He could no longer see the sadness and pain, for he _was_ sadness and pain, walking among the humans and their loving, passionate ways. He knew now that what Uriel had told him was right. He had fallen for a human, and his wings were broken because of it.

Some masochistic, self-punishing part of him refused to let them heal just yet.

He watched children play in the park until their parents or older siblings tugged them away to play with them or get them ice cream. He sat quietly in the corner of an outdoor café, observing the various couples that walked passed or spent time enjoying their partner's company over a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. He paced up and down a boardwalk, occasionally spotting couples in paddleboats fumbling with the stroke of the paddles, every now and then tipping themselves and their date into the lake, only to laugh about it and spend a good part of the day just trying to get back into the boat without dunking it again.

He was sure he looked like the heart-broken type, because no one ever told him to stop staring or to leave and stalk people elsewhere as they occasionally did over the while he'd been on earth. One waitress handed him a free cup of coffee saying _'whoever the bitch was, she should go to hell'_, to which he did not respond. He was certain he looked miserable, because many people gave him sympathetic and pitying looks, looks that reminded him of Sam every time.

This time, when an angel set in the seat beside him, he wasn't expecting it. He especially was not expecting a visit from whom it was. The redheaded young woman sat beside him, staring openly at him in the corner of a café. He tried to avoid her gaze.

"Cas," she said pleadingly. A couple of people who had been sitting on the tables around him, and had noticed how broken he looked, peered over to watch the exchange silently. After reading their minds he realised they all thought that the woman was who he was broken-hearted over.

"Anna." he said quietly. "Leave me alone."

"You shouldn't listen to Uriel, he doesn't know what he's talking about." she said, "He thinks he understands but he doesn't. He never connected to the one he fell for as you did. This will kill you, Cas. You can either let it heal, or you can go find the Winchesters and sort this whole mess out."

He tried to ignore her, he really did. When he finally turned to look at her, he felt the tears welling in his eyes. "He told me to go, and I wont go back until he wants me to go back." he could feel the shock at the people in the tables around him who had been listening, though he couldn't understand why.

"Sam is scared; he doesn't want you to get in trouble. He is a believer, Cas. He thinks you'll go to hell." he sighed heavily. "We know better than anyone that that isn't true. If you fall, you'll be rebuked, but you won't go to hell for it."

"You know what Sam's like. Not even his brother will get to him if he gets something stuck in his head."

"Dean isn't who has to worry about this, you are." she said steadily. "Dean literally went to hell and back for Sam, but he can't always be the one who gets through to him."

"They've saved one another's lives many times," he pointed out. "They are closer than I could ever wish to be with Sam."

"Well that's a start; you still want to be with him." Anna pointed out, and he fell silent. He tuned into the thoughts of the other customers, noticing that they were rolling the realisation that he was in love with a man in their minds, and that this man was a believer. "Can I ask you, why'd you pick him? I mean, you are practically Dean's shoulder angel. So why did you fall for Sam?"

Cas smiled sadly, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "It feels like he's the only thing that's real." he said. "I've looked into his eyes and there is nothing evil in him, he's not an abomination, I don't care what Uriel or the others say."

"You feel him inside you, don't you." she said, pressing her hand lightly to his chest. "Here."

Castiel nodded, eyes downcast to the table. "What should I do, Anna?" he asked. "Do I really love him?"

"Yes." she said surely. "And you should do something about it before it kills you." she stood, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder. "I'm going now, Castiel. You take care of _yourself_. Yourself and Sam, no one else."

She was gone, weaving through the tables of customers peering after her curiously, long strides taking her down the pathway, her step silent. He felt the eyes turn to him, but he did not react. He stared out into the sky, watching clouds as they raced across the large blue expanse that mirrored the colour of his eyes.

_Please, Father, let him understand. Let him forgive me, and himself.

* * *

_

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

"If only I could make you understand. You're all I'd ever need, Sam." Castiel said to himself, staring up at the many stars in the sky. He was considering when it would be the best time to try ripping out his grace, whether he should go to Dean first, or if he should talk to Sam about it. Sam deserved to know what he was about to do.

He needed Sam with him, he was scared. He wanted to hold his hands again, feel them soft and heavy in his own. He needed to breathe in Sam's scent, know what it was and remember it, find comfort in it. He needed to tell Sam that he loved him; he needed Sam to be there. There was a big empty pit inside him that had been filled with something before, something that Sam understood, something Sam created inside him.

He needed Sam to know he was going to fall, and he wanted Sam to be there to catch him when he did.

They'd go and find his grace before another angel could use it against him, he'd keep it around his neck like Uriel had kept Anna's, and if there were a threat and he needed to do something to help he could always return his grace to where it belonged.

Saying it, thinking it, were easier than actually doing it, he realised. Pacing around an empty field for hours, trying to get up the courage to do so, all he had managed to do is grab it and yank. The pain had been incredible. After breaking his wings it should be easier for the grace to detach, but he could feel everything. If it pained an Angel to rip out their grace, what about one who was almost completely human already?

It had caught him by complete shock when he heard Dean's voice in his head this time. _Sam's dying! Cas, please! Sam needs you, Cas!_

The terror that threatened to split his heart in half would have been enough to send an ordinary human into camatose, and before he knew what he was doing he was using his broken wings and flying in search of the Winchesters faster than he knew he could.

Dean's voice kept calling to him like a beacon, reeling him in and leading him straight to them. _Please help, oh no…Sam hang on! Cas, hurry up, please!_

He knocked the door to their hotel room almost completely off it's hinges, stumbling in wild-eyed and frightened. Sam shot up from where he had been laying on the bed, Dean seated on the one beside him with both guild and relief on his face.

"C-Cas?" Sam asked quietly. He was perfectly fine. For the moment, Castiel ignored Sam, glaring intently at Dean.

"You tricked me." he growled, blue eyes burning dark with anger. "You said Sam was dying."

"He _is_, he just doesn't know it yet." he retorted, "Besides, I had to do something. You can't just expect me to sit back and watch you two girls kill one another because you can't be in the same room."

Castiel forced himself not to look at Sam, turning his back and walking stiffly out. "Goodbye Dean."

"I'm sorry for lying, but it was the only way! You can't just walk away, Cas." he said, voice raising in threat. Cas squared his shoulders, still not looking back.

"I can and I will." he was almost at the door when Sam's trembling voice stopped him.

"Wait!" he cried out, "I had a dream just now, that you planned on ripping out your grace. Is that true?" when Castiel nodded he continued with a newfound anger. "How could you even think of doing something like that to yourself!"

"I'd do anything for you, I love you." Sam and Dean went silent, and Castiel felt his wings tremor and fall as though they had no energy left to hold them from the ground. "Goodbye Sam." Dean jumped up from where he was on the bed, running to grab the angel only to meet with air when he stumbled before the doorway. He slammed a fist against the closed door.

"_Damnit!_"

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~_

He was standing on the edge of the jetty he'd slept on the first after Sam told him to go. It was almost sundown once again, and their was a light sun shower that barely tickled his skin as the tiny sand-grain sized droplets brushed his skin. They hung like a faint mist in the air, sparkling and catching light like dust and flinders.

"You said you'd do anything?" Sam asked. It turned out the jetty wasn't that far of a walk from Bobby's house, which was where Dean and Sam had retired to after his confession and disappearance. Bobby had reluctantly agreed to help Sam keep track of the AWOL angel, which Castiel knew about from the start. It was not until he felt Sam growing nearer that he identified the lake he continuously visited over the week he had been absent from Sam and Dean's company.

He could have flown off, but a selfish part of him had wanted to stay and see where this was going to go. He wanted to know if Sam, beautiful human Sam, would even consider returning his affections, which had only grown in his absence. The more his emotions became available, the harder it was for him to stay away.

He had never even noticed when he had fallen in love with a human, but in a sense, he had known all along.

He turned to the sound of Sam's voice, giving him an aggrieved sidelong look. "Yes, that is what I said."

"You also said you…you love me?" he asked unsurely, as though asking such a question was prohibited.

"That I do." he admitted, though his voice had lowered and he turned to stare down at the lake water. Uriel was right; the water did look shockingly shallow if you stared hard enough. Such is the trick of the light.

"Then I want you to do something." Castiel bit his tongue to stop himself from saying _'anything'_; Sam already knew he would do anything. "I want you to promise me you won't fall, not completely. I can't ask you to give up being an angel, and I won't let you either."

Something in Castiel's wings stirred and he nodded after a short hesitation. "Alright. I promise you that, Sam." he said, watching as Sam nervously approached. The taller human stared down into his eyes, such a small distance between them now. "Anything else you wish to ask of me?"

His heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and Sam seemed to know because he set a large, heavy hand against his collarbone, sliding it down gently and dragging the collar of his shirt with it, skin on skin. Sam's hands were soft and gentle, caring. They did not want to hurt him, they wanted to hold him.

"Yeah, just one more thing." he said quietly, Castiel resisting the urge to brush Sam's hair from his brow and trace the curve of his cheekbone with his newly sensitised touch. Sam leant down, pressing their brows together, a small hesitant smile flickering over his lips. "Kiss me."

He didn't need to know how or why, he just needed to know he wanted to.

* * *

_~`;'~ _**SENSITIZED** _~`;'~  
END

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**A/N: **First Sassy fic, I hope I did alright. It wasn't meant to be this long, but I think I did alright (aside from my Aussie spelling which I keep getting flamed for)  
There were two songs that inspired me for this fic; the first half was 'Uninvited' by Alanis Morissette, and the second was 'All I Ever Had' by Ricky Martin.

I want to thank everyone who has also fallen in love with this pairing, and I hope you all keep writing for it. I have some more Sassy fics started, another angst/drama/tragedy oneshot titled **'Lonely Candle' **and the multi-chap story **'One Hundred Hours'. **

I guess that I sort of figured that Castiel wouldn't really understand at first what it was he felt for Sam unless someone explained it to him. And although Uriel isn't particularly the nicest character in this story he's somewhat more caring than he is in the series (probably because he's only around Castiel).

Reviews are love,  
**MK**


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